Dazed Kisses
by pollicem
Summary: Neville/Luna, Blossoming Bloomerslink, and of course, unadulterated schmoop.


I wrote this for girlwithsixarms's birthday a few weeks ago, and now I'm posting it. It's seventh year Neville/Luna, with a passing mention of Snarry, because I couldn't help myself.

--

Neville crept through the hallways, the brightest Lumos possible emanating from his wand, lighting the corridors where they grew dim between the torches. It still felt dark, it still felt cold, and he still felt just a little nervous. It was almost 3 in the morning, and many of the seventh-years were out by the lake, having an after-the-Potions-NEWT party, but Neville'd gotten tired, and decided to head back inside to bed. Unfortunately, no one wanted to come back up with him and so, he was a little nervous. Not a lot nervous or anything, just a little. So he had cast the brightest Lumos possible and was almost back at Gryffindor Tower.

Yeah, he was almost back at Gryffindor Tower.

Passing the bathrooms, passing the Door that Never Opened, passing the giant gargoyle who winked at him, passing the–

"Arrrrrrrgh!" Neville yelled, as something came out of one of the doors and slammed into him.

He leapt back and held his wand out in front of him, illuminating a stone ghoul who blinked bewilderedly, and beside it-

"Luna!" Neville gaped. "What are you doing up here this late?"

"Sorry, I didn't mean to shock you," she inspected him as if to make sure that the Tnorblats, out in force this season and especially ferocious, hadn't gnawed off his clothes, or worse. But it appeared that his clothes were intact, and he had all of his fingers. "I was just looking for the Blossoming Bloomerslink– they grow in the cracks in between the rocks in the walls, and this abandoned classroom has _tons_ of them! Especially around the windows." She smiled earnestly. "My father told me to look for them at the quarter moon, because if they're harvested just at the right time, they can be used to feed the Hamplims – he has a whole colony at home, you know." Her eyes grew even more excited. "Were you looking for them too?"

Neville shook his head. Her blonde hair was so pretty. "No, I was just heading up to bed."

"I can give you some later, if you'd like." She patted the bag that was hanging from her shoulder and opened it for him to peek in. It was full of pieces of moss. Normal, green moss. Perfectly plain, standard moss. Just moss. At least it looked like moss. When Neville got some later, he'd inspect it more closely. Maybe it had unknown magical properties.

"Er, thanks Luna." Moss was always helpful, Neville reflected, and he could use it to cover the soil of the maple Bonsai tree he was training. And if it wasn't moss, he'd ask Professor Sprout about it. Luna smiled at him and her silvery eyes met his brown ones for a brief moment before they walked away.

"Neville," her light voice stopped him and he turned, an absent look on her face. "You're awfully cute."

Neville blushed and fumbled awkwardly for a suitable reply. "Er, thanks," he muttered, before she headed toward the Ravenclaw dormitory. He wished he had the courage to tell her that she was awfully cute too.

Despite being so tired earlier, Neville slept fitfully, dreaming of expressive, lightlight-blue eyes and Bloomerslinks.

--

The next day, the Great Hall was ablaze at breakfast as soon as the Daily Prophet was delivered. Pasted across the front page was a picture of Harry and Snape, Harry _wrapped_ around the older Wizard, a hair's breadth in between their faces as they looked into each other's eyes for a gasp before they caved and their mouths met. Everyone was surprised and appalled. As soon as Harry saw it, he went from laughing with Ron and Hermione to deathly white, stood up abruptly, and walked out of the Great Hall. Snape merely glared at everyone who had the nerve to look up at him so that soon, the befuddled students would only look at anything that _wasn't_ the Potions Master.

When Neville looked over at Luna, she was holding the paper, smiling bemusedly, looking for all the world as though she'd known about this all along.

Later, when Neville hovered near Harry who was talking to Ron and Hermione in a miraculously secluded corner of the common room, it became clear that neither Ron nor Hermione had known about this before. Neville joined the trio and Harry nodded to him, but continued. Since the final battle, he and Harry had been relatively close. Apparently Harry and Severus'd finished enjoying a private meal together in a very posh establishment off Diagon Alley, where the press was, of course, forbidden, and Severus (_Severus_, Neville wondered) had just looked so… something, and it had _just happened_. Trust someone in there to have had a bloody camera and then send the picture to the press. Pictures of Harry were a hot commodity since the defeat of the Dark Lord. Despite their shock, Ron and Hermione were doing their best to be supportive, if Harry was sure that this was what he wanted. Harry assured them that it was, and received a hug from Hermione and a friendly pat-on-the-back from Ron who was, let's be honest, just a _twit_ squicked that his best mate could be… could be, what, in love? with such a coot. He had strong suspicions that Snape'd drugged Harry.

That night, Neville was working in Greenhouse Two, trying to coax a particularly stubborn branch of his Bonsai to grow a little to the left, and to twist a little, so it could better channel the powers for stability and strength.

"Hello," a soft voice from behind surprised him and he turned his head, careful to hold onto the branch, lest it slip again when he _almost_ had the wire wrapped around it _just so_. It was Luna.

He smiled at her.

"I brought you some Boomerslinks." She took the bag, carrying a fistful of moss, off her shoulder and placed it on the table beside him as he struggled with the maple.

"Ooh," she breathed at the miniature tree. "I read about those a few weeks ago in the Quibbler! They were imported from ancient Japan and have _legendary_ magical capabilities, depending on how you grow them."

"Yeah, more or less-" Neville sighed as he got the wire around the branch and the tree seemed to accept it. "Finally."

"What are you training it for?'

"I… I haven't decided yet. It's only a few years old, so I've been growing it into the pattern for general protective magic."

"Hmm." Luna inspected it and brushed a finger against the branch Neville had been working on. "Supposedly a drop of sap from a really well-crafted maple can help alleviate damage from Cruciatus," she mused absently. "Or sometimes be used as a memory-restorer."

Neville nodded sullenly. Cruciatus. "Oh."

She hoisted herself up on the table to sit down as he took the bag of moss and began to carefully spread it over the dirt of the pot. She didn't speak, and the silence seemed dense to Neville. Like he could cut it with his pruning knife.

"Pretty shocking about Harry and Snape, huh?" Neville searched for something awkwardly, trying to find something.

"Oh, I suppose." Luna's gaze wandered around at the plants that hung over the tables, and the huge bush of Greenlinze that monopolized one corner. "But really, it makes sense," she continued in her wispy voice. "They understand each other." She smiled, a far-away look in her eyes. "And really, they're kind of cute."

Neville almost chocked on nothing, and ended up coughing with Luna slapping his back, terrified that he had a rare, fatal allergy to the Bloomerslink. Why'd he have to be so awkward around her? Through his wheezing, Neville tried to assure her that he had no such affliction, but she persuaded him to go to the Hospital Wing with her to make sure. Pomfrey pursed her lips at Luna's ridiculousness, but obliged her by running a basic diagnostic charm over Neville who, she assured them, was perfectly fine, if his heart was beating a bit faster than usual. Then she pushed them out of her room into the hallway.

Neville shivered, cold, before Luna advised him to be careful of possible Boomerslink resurgences. They said good night to each other, and headed in different directions.

When he entered the common room, Hermione and Ron were sitting quietly next to each other by the fire, but no one else was there.

As soon they spotted him, the Fat Lady clinking back into her portrait hole, Ron smirked - people only came back this late when they'd been with someone. "Who was it?" he asked curiously. Hermione elbowed him in the ribs telling him, loud and clear, to mention _nothing_ about Luna. _Nothing_.

Neville frowned. "Er..."

"Did you-" Ron continued before Neville shook his head emphatically, blushing. There was a brief moment of silence before Neville nodded at them and excused himself to bed.

Hermione's eyes narrowed and she nudged Ron again. "Don't do that…" She whispered at him, but her murmurs wafted to Neville. Hermione had a brief debate with herself before she quashed the little dissenting voice inside of her. "She likes him, and if you wreck what they've got before-"

"But she's bzonkers!"

"But wouldn't they be a cute couple?"

Neville didn't want to hear anymore and, blushing, hurried all the way up the stairs.

--

Throughout the next day, Neville tried to have a meeting with Luna. Subtly. But every time he thought they might have a minute alone, something ruined it. When they were walking to lunch, Harry came by and walked with them, looking breathless and mussed. Neither Neville nor Luna speculated, although Neville could have sworn he saw a little dazed smirk on her lips.

On his way back from the greenhouses, Luna was lying on her back in the grass, "trying to spot fairies," but then Malfoy and his cronies materialized and they fought until it was time for Transfiguration.

But when he went scouting for her after dinner, he finally found her in one of the aisles in the library, standing on her tiptoes on the moving ladder, leafing through the books on the topmost shelf.

"What are you looking for?" Neville thought that was a good opening gambit.

Luna looked down at him. "Red-nosed Pixies! I read that they just adore old books and high places, so I thought this would be just the place to find them."

Neville looked at her. "Um. I don't think so."

But just then, Luna was proven right for once. Two green-bodied, Red-nosed Pixies flew out of the stack she was inspecting and swarmed around Neville's head.

"Aw," she cooed at them. "They like you! Look how friendly they are!"

Nope. On that count she was dead wrong. They bared their teeth, growled, and promptly began to attack his head, trying to drag their clawed hands across his face.

"Make them _stop_!" he yelled through his hands as he tried to both cover his face and bat the demons away.

Quickly, but regretfully, Luna Stunned them. "Come on," she told Neville as he examined the deep scratches running across his hands. "We must have provoked them." She put a hand – warm – on his back and guided him away from the pixies before she released them. Thankfully, they didn't attack again.

"I'm going to go to Madam Pomfrey – she'll give me a salve, or something." Neville had been thwarted by the world yet again. Why was it always _him_?

They walked together up to the infirmary. His hands stung.

"Neville," her light voice began, and he turned, suddenly caught in her silvery grey eyes, confused.

"Yeah?"

He blinked. She blinked. They got a little closer together, and he smiled, forgetting his hectic day and the bleeding cuts in his hands. When their mouths met it was messy and wet and new and Neville's sore hands cradled her waist and her hands – warm – sent a shiver down his back and her tongue – sloppy but so perfect – and he was sure he was going to pass out in about a minute – like drowning – but it was just so _good_. He pulled back, gasping for air, a huge grin lighting his face as he stared at Luna, dazed. She was flushed, happy, breathless.

They stood there for a moment or two or three, staring at each other.

Blessedly, no one wandered by.

When they came back down to earth, Neville collected himself and cleared his throat. "I'm gonna go. Pomfrey."

Luna nodded absently. "Okay. I'll find you later."

Neville beamed as Luna walked away, almost bouncing on her feet.

For once, he was glad it was always him.


End file.
